Sparkling Sitting
by madwriter223 -TF
Summary: The Elite seeker trine is out for a flight? Who's taking care of their seekerlets then? Oh right... other Decepticons. Humor, Horrifying moments, and three adorable little ones. Implied Thundercracker/Starscream/Skywarp.


Remember 28 Meme - Playing with Kids? The three little ones got kinda stuck in my head, and I decided to give them a fic of their own. ^__^ Enjoy.

**Seekerlet-Sitting**

It was another uneventful day for the Decepticons.

"RUNWAY!! STOP BITING ME!!"

Did I say 'uneventful'? I meant 'normal'.

"Sonar! Back away from the computer!" Three seconds later. "RUN!! IT'S GONNA BLOW!!"

Still normal.

"Jetstorm, get down from that beam and apologise to Swindle for painting him pink right now!!"

Believe it or not, this was actually a normal day for the Decepticons. Or should I say the Decepticons that got roped into sparkling-sitting duty while their Creators went for a flight.

"No worries guys, I disarmed the main console."

"Great, now get him away from the door panel."

"Sonar!!"

Sonar was the youngest of the three. He was already a proven genius, with a tendency to get his servos on any piece of machinery he could find and make a bomb out of it. Not in the Wheeljack kind of way either. He was smart enough to know what he was doing and he did it intentionally. He also possesed a rather large vocabulary. Half of it consisted of swear words, and Starscream would glare at Bonecrusher each time he saw him for introducing such words to his offspring.

Especially when the CSO had the little one with him, listening as he cursed up a storm.

"Problems?"

"He won't get down from the ceiling again."

"I'll get Dirge."

Jetstorm was the first, and thankfully the only one of the three to so far learn how to fly. He practised contantly (driving the groundling soldiers mad as they tried to keep track of him) and used it to his advantage when he pranked someone. It was obvious he learned quite a few things from spending his time with Skywarp. He was usually accompanied by one of the flyers, ready to pluck him off any high-beams or dangerously situated ledges he would always manage to find. Additionally, he was growing to be as fast as his bearer, which was proving to be a whole new set of trouble for the ones trying to catch him.

"Anybody seen Runway?"

"Over here. Now get him off me."

"Remove your dentals from the plating, kid. Now."

Runway was the oldest and the unquestionable leader of the miniature trine. Where he went, the other two usually followed. Unfortunately, as his name suggested, he was also a master a running away. One could tie him with chains to keep him in one place for longer than a klik, turn around for just one moment, and the little scraplet would bite his way free. Mostly because his main feature were sharp dentals which he applied to any living plating he could find. The fact he was still tiny had limited his access to peds only, but he was gradually gaining height as he chewed.

The Decepticons all feared the time the brat would be able to reach their waists. And the sensitive plating on the front.

Yup, the three little seekerlets were proving themselves to be more than any sane mech could handle. Probably why the Decepticons were labeled insane in most worlds, but considering most of them actually volunteered for sparkling-sitting duty, it just might be true.

On the other servo, there was a certain number of mechs keeping far away from the little menaces. As far as possible. Take Reflector for instance – as soon as the three of him saw a little winged shape making its way across the floor, he would slowly back away till there were at least five steel doors separating him from the threat. But who could blame him after his misadventure with Sonar, when he had been stupid enough to combine and let the little genius hold him, probably so the bitlet could take a few pictures for fun. Only a quick visit to Hook saved him from making the little one's favorite sound – BOOM.

Yup, the three winglets were already striking dread into the sparks of their comrades.

However, the Decepticon warriors had seen bigger horrors and annoyances than the three bitlets.

Cue memories of a Starscream bearing three new sparks at the same time. In itself not overly terrifying, but one could not omit the entire seeker nation enlisted in the 'con ranks going on an overprotective frenzy for the entire duration of the gestation-period.

Pit, a mech _breathed_ wrong near the scientist and all the flyers in the room would snarl at him.

But the Decepticons were a tough race – they survived the 'pregnancy', and managed to do so with few damages and casualties. Now, nothing would strike fear into their sparks.

Or so they thought until the little ones gained mobility.

After that, it was a mad-dash to catch them if they got away and their Creators weren't around. Or practising the ability to stop suddenly mid-movement if one of the scraplets managed to get under their peds, mostly because they hadn't been restricted to one place and usually had free run of the base.

Because though they were little Unmakers sent from the Pit to torture the Decepticons (they were more than sure of that), no one wanted to have the little ones hurt.

The reason for this was that nomech wanted to anger the three Creators into a murdering rage, which could be triggered by even one dent. All the Decepticons were pretty adamant that was the reason. Yes-siree, nothing else would prompt them to follow after the scraplets whenever one noticed them in the vicinity. Nope, that's the only reason.

Really...

Nothing to do with big scarlet optics and tiny smiles that lit up the room.

Nu-uh, nope. Nothing.

*~*~*~*

A gruelling session of 'catch the seekerlet' and a story bookfile read by Bonecrusher later, the caretakers sighed with relief as they stood over the forms of three recharging winglets.

Finally, some peace and quiet.

"We're back."

Just in time too.

The designated sitters turned to the three seekers, muttering quiet words of "Hey.", "Welcome back." and "Never procreate again."

"Did they behave?"

"Pretty much as usual."

"Sorry to hear that. Any explosions or casualties?"

"Managed to difuse all of them. And the plating can always be replaced."  
"Alright. You four are excused from duty for the rest of the cycle. You've earned it."

The mechs saluted briefly at the SIC, leaving the room as the three Creators moved closer to their little ones. The prospect of having the rest of the cycle to lay in their berths was looking very fine indeed. They were tired enough to recharge through the Apocalips.

Now, if only they could manage to ignore the silence of not having three bitlets giggling/babbling/trilling at them... Oh well, they'll be back to catching the little ones from getting stepped on soon enough.


End file.
